


Jeff Goldblum: My Milk

by WillowLong



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Crack, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Other, Trigger Warning: Jeff Goldblum, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:17:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowLong/pseuds/WillowLong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He slid from beneath the sheet’s like a snake slithering along a pan of hot olive oil. He must sacrifice himself to the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeff Goldblum: My Milk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlaidHunters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaidHunters/gifts).



Rain beat against the thin pane of his upstairs bedroom window as lightning lite up the sky like a flash bomb. Creaks and moans of the old house struggling against the unrelenting wind made up the soundtrack of his lonely midnight. A soft moan escaped his lips as a stray tree branch scraped against the window. It was as if the world itself were reaching out to him. Calling to him from the wind and the rain. 

“Jeff.” The wind whispered through the trees. 

He sighed once more as the groans of the settling house seeped into his body. He shuddered as he imagined the implications of the house’s soft cry's. A hand slipped between the glorious satin bed sheets that caressed his flawless body. It was his hand. 

“No.” He gasped to himself and withdrew his hand as if it were scalded. As if his mere overwhelming attractiveness conducted physical heat. 

He was parched. His lips were dry and he flicked his tongue out, attempting to moisten them. It was no use. The strain of denying the house’s advances was wearing on him, sucking the moisture straight from his body to water the dry earth outside of his window. 

‘It’s raining, me.’ He thought, his pupils dilating fully in the darkness of his bedroom. ‘I have to fulfill my duties to my earth. The world, it needs me.’

He slid from beneath the sheet’s like a snake slithering along a pan of hot olive oil. He must sacrifice himself to the house.

Thunder cracked above him as he stumbled his way through the dark. Fear gripped his body, the air escaping his lungs. 

“I’m trying!” He shouted to the house. 

The tiles of the kitchen floor were frigid underfoot as he grasped desperately for the refrigerator door. The light blinded him as he reached into the cold box. Grabbing a small unmarked carton, he slammed the door. Lightning lite up the house once more as Jeff Goldblum took a deep drink of the creamy, life giving liquid. 

“My milk.” His whispered to the house. 

FIN


End file.
